Handbook of Shadows
by xxSorenxx
Summary: Clary Fray is starting to see things no one else can. She is haunted by the elements of the Shadow world, and does her best to forget all the strange things she sees. But there is one thing she cannot forget… the incredibly gorgeous Isabelle Lightwood. Femslash, Clary/Isabelle
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Clary awoke from another fitful dream. Sweat dripped from the bridge of her freckled nose. She gasped for air, clutching at her empty bedside—where she swore just moments ago, she was sharing with gorgeous, black haired woman. There was nothing there. Clary was alone.

A glance at the clock told her it was 3:01 in the morning. She had dreamt of the scarred woman she saw many nights ago, at the Pandemonium Club with Simon. Of course, Simon hadn't seen her at all, even though she had passed right under his nose. It was odd. Simon could never miss a girl that hot. She was the most stunning girl Clary had ever seen. She wore a tight black dress that exposed feathery scars on her shoulders and back, her long midnight hair splayed out around her as she walked—and oh, her walk! She prowled like a cat on a hunt, her brown-gold eyes alight with unyielding confidence. She had eyes that would turn both Clary and Simon into jelly with a single glance.

She commanded a silvery-gold bracelet coiled around her wrist to unravel with a single flick of the wrist. It came to life, arching high over her head in a shimmering display and landing on the floor with a loud crack. No one seemed to notice this—no one but Clary.

Clary groaned in exhaustion and disappointment. The area between her legs throbbed painfully. It was such a good dream. She dreamed of that invisible girl, how her hips swung when she walked, how strong her arms looked—and how those arms would feel if they were wrapped around her, or pushing her against the bed. Her hands—so skilled with a whip, Clary imagined, would be very skilled at many other things.

Clary let her hand wander underneath her pajamas to sooth the aching throb. When her hands met her swollen flesh, she had to bury her face in the pillows to muffle her moan. It was almost embarrassing to admit how much Clary wanted her. She had only seen her once, and now this mysterious girl had been the star of all her fantasies. Clary shuddered, she was getting close now. And when her orgasm finally hit, she was not as satisfied as she wanted to be. In fact, it just made her hungrier for the real thing.

She had to forget about this girl if she wanted to keep her sanity. That's what Clary told herself that morning in _Spatial Transpositions_ class. Clary was an Art Major at the Haywood Art Academy.

Clary was tapping her pencil on her desk. Several of her peers gave her annoyed looks, but she paid no attention. Her mind was far away, still thinking about last night's dream. Professor Tydin's voice droned on and on. Spatial Transpositions was already boring—there was no helping that. But the addition of his monotone voice made the class sleep-worthy at most.

"Ah—welcome, Jace and Isabelle Lightwood is it?" Professor Tydin's voice stuttered, "Welcome to our class, please, have a seat."

Clary looked up lazily, curious to see who could make the most apathetic teacher on earth sound so flustered.

Clary's pencil slipped from her hand and clattered onto the floor. She couldn't help but gape at the new students. It was her. The girl with midnight black hair and sharp, beautiful features. She was no longer wearing a revealing dress, but had donned a black leather jacket, ripped black jeans and a tube top that revealed a strip of well-defined abdomen. Beside her was a boy with golden blonde hair, swept back and tucked behind his ears. He wore something similar, black on black. And he was every bit as gorgeous as she was.

The room rumbled with an excited hum. Clary looked around and saw that everyone wore expressions of awe and shock. Two beautiful beings that resembled archangels more than real people, would have that effect on a class. She almost felt bad for Professor Tydin, whose gaze was locked on Isabelle, his jaw hanging open. Although all of the boys in the room had a similar expression. But at least, that meant everyone else could see them too. She was real.

They strode over to two empty seats, walking with a grace Clary had never seen before. Heads followed them as they moved, but they did not seem to mind. Jace even winked at a few of the gaping girls. The girls turned pink and swooned in their chairs. The click of their black boots was the only sound in silent classroom.

Isabelle glanced around the room from her chair. Students, mostly boys since the attention of the girl population was captured by Jace, stared at her with open mouths and puppydog eyes. She caught Jace grinning at the girls, making them giggle and swoon uncontrollably. Honestly, could he be a little more inconspicuous? We were here on a mission, not to play.

Isabelle rolled her eyes and looked in the other direction—and caught the gaze of stunning green eyes. She was taken aback by this girl's stare. It was so intense it made her shiver. And that wasn't the only thing that unsettled her. She was beautiful—almost too beautiful to be a mundane. Her red hair poured around her shoulders like a blanket of flame and brown freckles decorated her cheeks and the top of her tiny nose. Upon getting caught, the girl turned away, her face almost as red as her hair. Isabelle couldn't help but smile to herself.

Clary's heart pounded like a jackhammer in her chest. They had only met eyes for a second, but it was enough for Clary bones to turn into spaghetti. Her eyes, they were so piercing, so ruthless, so intimidating… And Clary loved it. She knew Spatial Transpositions would never be boring again.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

The when the clock hit noon, the students began to stand and pack their bags, even when Professor Tydin hadn't finished talking. Clary packed slowly, watching the two gorgeous beings banter nonchalantly to each other.

"I doubt the Clave is right about this. It's probably why they wouldn't tell us how they got the hint about the Mortal Cup being here." Jace gave an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his golden blonde hair. "Because their source was total bullshit."

"You think everything they do is bullshit." Isabelle snapped. "But we don't have a choice, so sit tight and quit complaining."

Clary had paused, her textbook halfway inside her bag. What on earth were they talking about? The Clave? Mortal Cup? The nonsense made it sound like these two were dedicated members of the Dungeons and Dragons club. But they didn't seem like the normal crowd that got involved with geeky games like that. They were—too cool. The Dungeons and Dragons crowd better resembled Clary's best friend Simon, with his curly hair, glasses, band membership, and nerdy T-shirts.

"Come on." Isabelle tugged on Jace's upper arm. He yawned and walked reluctantly forward in the direction of her pull.

She headed in the same direction as they did, towards the center Plaza where the bookstore and food trucks are. That's where she usually met up with Simon to eat lunch. She was glad they were walking in the same direction. This way, she could admire the way Isabelle walked. Firm, muscular legs became a full bottom. Her hips swung entrancingly. A glance at her surroundings told her that she wasn't the only one entranced. Wherever these two went, people stopped to gape at their otherworldly beauty.

Clary was about to turn into the Plaza when Jace and Isabelle stopped in their tracks. Instead of continuing, she stopped too, curious to what had stopped them.

"Is your sensor going off too?" Jace asked her in an urgent whisper.

"Sure is," Isabelle chirped with excitement, "Let's hurry up and kill it."

Jace darted forward, ducking behind a classroom with Isabelle following him. Their admirers seemed to fall out of their trance, looking at the spot the beauties had disappeared from, confused. Then they continued on their way.

Clary stood conflicted for one moment. She wasn't usually the stalker type, but there was something definitely alarming about pledging to commit murder. Although, they had said "it", so it may not be a _person_ they were trying to kill. But still, it was strange.

So Clary ducked behind the building as well, tailing them as quietly as she could. She followed them to the back of the campus, where the dumpsters were. She saw them enter the swimming club room, which would be unoccupied at this time. She hurried after them.

She crept silently against the wall. She was about to reach the window when an earth-shattering boom reverberated from inside the tiny club house. The wall beside Clary hissed and cracked, splintering from the base, to the roof. The floors shook, and Clary nearly lost her balance. What on earth were they doing in there?

Concerned about the survival of the tiny club house, Clary kicked open the door, prepared to yell at them for property destruction—but the scene before her stunned her into silence.

Jace was, with much effort, pinning a giant rat-like creature to the floor, while Isabelle had its limbs wrapped together in her silvery-gold whip.

What was this? It was about as big as a bear, and had matted patches of black fur, gnarled limbs, and a muzzle full of shark teeth. This was no ordinary rabid animal. It didn't look like anything from this world.

Then Clary did the worst possible thing she could've done—she screamed.

And as if in slow motion, Jace and Isabelle looked up from the writhing creature to meet eyes with Clary. And that moment of distraction was all it took for the creature to worm its way free.

With a loud snarl, it threw Jace off his back, and he hit the other wall with a sickening crunch. It lunged for Clary's throat, dragging Isabelle forward as her whip was still attached to one of its claws.

She staggered backwards in fright. If there was any air in her lungs, she would've screamed. But with the jaws snapping at her face, spewing black slime in every direction, it was all she could do to scoot away frantically. As the beast took one more leap forward, she knew she was done for.

But the jaw suddenly froze in midair and the murderous claws stopped digging into the earth. For one dreadful second, she looked into the red eyes of the beast— and then it exploded in a whirling cloud of black dust.

Where the dust was scattered onto the pavement, Isabelle stood with a glowing silver sword in her hand, its tip where the beast's heart had just been moments ago. Her brown-gold eyes stared into Clary's, a mixture of fury and coldness pouring through them. She was still poised in her death blow stance, looking graceful, magnificent, and breathtakingly beautiful. But also murderous.

The ruthlessness in her eyes sent a chill deep into Clary's bones. She would never forget these ruthless brown eyes. Isabelle was no longer wearing the same clothes or skin. What was once a casual leather jacket and jeans had turned into a tight fitting black fabric, made of very sturdy material. Her skin, which was smooth and ivory, was now scarred and decorated with black lines that swirled in ornate patterns. She had transformed.

Heavy footsteps broke through Clary's trance. It was Jace, limping up to Isabelle from the clubhouse—or what remained of it.

Reality sunk in. Who were these people? What was that thing that they just killed? Clary feared that she would be their next target. So when Isabelle tore her murderous eyes away from Clary to look up at Jace, Clary did not waste any time. She pushed herself off the ground and bolted. Clary ran and ran, as fast as she could manage, not daring to look to see if they had followed.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Clary darted through the crowd of bustling students, bumping into them and was given annoyed glares. Then she caught sight of Simon and stopped. She shouldn't lead the danger to him, if she were being followed by Isabelle and Jace, she didn't have to doom Simon as well. So she turned around and jogged in the other direction, eventually giving into her exhaustion and slumping onto the grass.

She took deep breaths, willing her pounding heart to slow. This wasn't her first encounter with bizarre, alien beasts. In fact, she'd always seen strange things out of the corner of her eye, like a wisp of fairy wings, a serpent shimmering unnaturally in a pond, a crawling creature with far too many legs, but this was by far, the strangest of them all. Because, for the first time, there were other people who saw them too. And not only did those two see the creature, they were fighting it. And winning.

And something else nagged at her. The marks on the Isabelle's skin. She was covered in swirling black symbols—symbols that she was somehow familiar with. She didn't know what they meant, but they appeared in her dreams, flashed behind her eyelids when she least expected it, and were scribbled all over her sketchbook, which she suspected she drew when she spaced out.

Who were they?

Clary should've been scared. She was—they had just slayed a giant bear-rat creature and she'd been given a fearsome death glare from Isabelle, but she couldn't help but feel a spark of excitement. Yes, they both seemed very dangerous, crazy even, but the appearance of the woman of her dreams overrode her common sense. She had locked eyes with the most beautiful creature on the planet.

She looked over her shoulder once more to confirm they weren't following her. When she did not see them, she decided it was safe to find Simon.

"Where were you?" Simon asked, not angry, but mildly irritated. When he _really_ saw her, he stood up in alarm, "What happened to you? You look like you just fell out of a tree."

She looked at the reflection of herself in the cafeteria window. He was right. Her jeans were scuffed and torn, leaves stuck out of her wild hair, and the back of her shirt looked like she had just attempted to make snow angels out of dirt.

"I fell." She said.

Simon raised one bushy eyebrow, unconvinced.

"It happens."

He still did not look convinced, but did not push it the topic. "Well, are you all right?"

"Yes." She told him, "Let's go, I think we're going to be late."

As if on que, the giant clock tower at the center of campus rang loudly, indicating one o'clock. They both sped off to their next class. Before entering the building, Clary took one more glance over her shoulder, only to meet eyes with the most fearsome and beautiful woman she'd ever seen, standing by the clock tower in the distance. Her stomach clenched nervously. Then, the double door swung close behind her.

Simon and Clary lived on the same street, and often biked home together. Clary was paranoid on her way home, constantly checking over her shoulder for those furious eyes, and had almost ridden into a pole. She brought Simon into her home, as usual. They often spent evening's together, working on homework, reading manga, and playing video games. It had been this way since they were kids.

When she looked up from her textbook, Simon was staring at her.

"What?" She asked, perplexed.

"What's got you so wound up?"

"I'm not wound up." She frowned.

But Simon didn't fall for it, he knew her too well. She couldn't lie to him. "So you fell out of a tree? And on our way home you kept looking around like the boogyman was going to pop out at you."

Clary sighed and closed her textbook. There was no point lying to him. He was her best friend, and she told him everything—even the strange things she started seeing. She had told him about the things that crawl in dark places, the strange whispers in the trees, and the creatures that lurk in the ponds, but of course, he was skeptical. Every time she confided with him, he would give her this look that said he was concerned for her sanity, but he was too kind to say anything. Instead, he would often reason things out, find logical explanations for everything Clary claimed to see. She wasn't sure if it was kindness—or pity. She was reluctant to tell him about Isabelle and Jace, because it would be difficult to conjure a logical explanation for it. Two kids wrestling a bear in the swimming club house maybe? But there weren't any bears in their area.

And she didn't want it to be brushed off as a trick of the eye, or some strange phenomenon that had a scientific explanation. She knew what she saw. Two beings, more ethereal than human, fighting a creature that was without a doubt, not from this world. It was too grotesque, too powerful, and far too weird to be an ordinary animal. And those two… they were not ordinary people. Clary knew it the moment they walked through her classroom doors, even before the weapons, marks, and scars became visible.

Their unearthly beauty and impossible grace, she had not seen anything like it—actually, she had seen it before. The way they walked, like a panther stalking the jungle, silent and poised. How they moved with such precision, as if they were trained to move like that since birth. It was how her mother moved. And her step father, Luke, moved in the same manner. This realization struck her like an arrow in the chest. Why was that so?

"Hello?" Simon waved a hand in front of her face, "Earth to clary."

The textbook fell out of her frozen hands and thumped loudly onto the floor.

"Clary?" His voice was concerned now.

Clary shook her head to clear it. No, she wouldn't worry about that. It was just a coincidence. "Sorry," she muttered. There was a pause. Simon stared at her, willing for her to explain. So she did. "Spatial Transpositions got two new transfer students today," then she dived into the story, including everything from walking behind them to find Simon, only to get sidetracked upon hearing their vow to _kill it_. She told him about following them to the club house, how the ground shook, and the giant rat-like demon creature that was ultimately killed by Isabelle. She did have the sense to leave out how gorgeous they both were, and how Isabelle was so stunningly, she was practically drooling the whole time.

And after the story was finished, Simon threw his head back, and laughed.

Clary sighed. He most definitely thought she was insane.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Isabelle stood in the grand library of the New York institute. She was staring at the dark street through the window, not looking at anything in particular. She brought a finger to her temple, hoping to ease the growing headache. She found herself intrigued, but not all that surprised of this afternoon's events.

She kept thinking back to the red-headed beauty's startling green eyes. When they locked with Isabelle's, there was an unmistakable intensity in them. In that one instant, she saw a lot of things in that girl's eyes. Recognition. But where could she have recognized her from? She got the feeling that the girl saw through her—right through her glamour. But that was impossible. She was a mundane. Right? And if she were to admit to herself—she also saw lust in those eyes. Something about that girl made Isabelle twitch nervously. It unnerved her. Those knowing green eyes…

"So let me get this straight." Alec was pacing the room, his hand absently scratching at his 5-o'clock shadow. He rounded on Jace. "You almost got killed by a rat demon, because a mundane saw you?" He shook his head in disappointment.

"The last thing you expect if a mundane to come through the door and start screaming. It threw us off for a second. And I doubt she actually _saw_ us." Jace interjected. "Sometimes, when mundanes see a demon like that, they'll see a rabid dog or some other sort of creature instead."

"No." Isabelle disagreed in a low voice. "She saw us."

Jace frowned. "She's mundane. Of course she didn't."

"Some mundanes can see the shadow world." Isabelle turned to her adopted brother, "And I know she saw us because we made eye contact."

"Maybe you forgot to turn off the glamour." Alec offered.

"No." She insisted. "There was no glamour."

Jace sighed and stretched his arms. "Well, so what?" He ran his fingers through his golden-blonde hair. "So she saw us, who cares?"

Alec made an exasperated sound. "And she goes and tells all her friends about you and Izzy, and that's it," he dusted his hands together, "Cover blown and mission failed."

Jace frowned. He hadn't thought about that implication. "So what now?"

"Take her to the silent brothers to have her memories erased." Alec said harshly.

"That's dangerous." Isabelle objected.

"Who cares?" Alec rolled his blue eyes. "You can't allow anything to stand in the way of the mission."

"I don't think she will." She insisted. Alec gave her an appraising look, his eyes confused. This wasn't her normal behavior. She didn't particularly like mundanes, or bothered to stick up for them. But there was just something about _this_ mundane. If that girl's mind couldn't handle the strain during the procedure, she would be a vegetable for the rest of her life. And for a reason she could not explain, she did not want that girl to have that fate.

"What do _you_ suppose we do then?" Alec asked her with a raised brow.

"Let's wait." She turned to Jace. "She's in our class. If she poses a problem, we know where to find her."

With a gasp, Clary came sharply awake, the prickles of pain still fresh on her skin. She frantically searched the darkness for the danger, but only saw her bedroom. Clutching her chest, she forced her breathing to slow, telling herself that it was just a dream. Or a nightmare.

Her dream started as a pleasant one, starring the beautiful Isabelle, long limbed, well-toned, and fierce eyes. She dreamed of Isabelle's strong arms pinning her to the alleyway wall, hunger and need pouring through her eyes. Clary was paralyzed by the ripples of arousal pulsing through her. When Isabelle drew her whip, Clary couldn't help but stare at her adept hands, manipulating the wild weapon easily. Oh how good those skilled hand would feel on her skin. She wanted Isabelle to touch her.

But then, Isabelle's eyes went from lustful, to murderous. With a flick of her wrist, the silver-gold whip wrapped mercilessly around Clary's neck and tightened. The metal dug painfully into her skin, cutting off her air-supply. She tried to pry it off, but Isabelle took her wrist and shoved them hard against the stone wall. Now, her wrists were burning painfully too.

And then she had awakened, gasping, and covered in sweat. Clary let her hand trail the skin of her neck, glad the weight of the crushing metal was gone. There was no evidence that it had ever been there.

Then she used a finger to trace where Isabelle had restrained her wrist. To her surprise, it was very painful to the touch. And now that she focused on it, it was burning hot. It was just a dream, there was no way she could actually be hurt. Concerned, Clary stood and wobbled to the bathroom.

She turned on the light and gasped. There was an abrasion on her wrist, dreadfully swollen and green.

Clary tried to think back to when this could've happened. She remembered seeing the scrape last night when washing her hands. But it had just been that—a scrape. Now it was festering and swelling at an alarming rate.

Just looking at it made her dizzy. She sank to the floor, suddenly feeling very hot. Her heart pounded frantically in her chest. And soon, she found herself too dizzy to stand. Her strength was being sapped out of her. Clary reached for the bathroom door, determined to call for help, but her voice was too far away now. Then, the blackness consumed her.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

"Clary!" A female voice sounded. It was distant, as if hearing through a long, muffled tunnel. "Clary, baby, please wake up." It was her mother's voice. Clary wanted to answer, but she was too far away. "Lucian!" Jocelyn's voice called, panicked.

"What happened?" A male voice asked. She felt two sets of hands prodding her. A warm hand wrapped around her burning wrist.

"It's a demonic injury. Her body has never been exposed to ichor. We need to take her to Magnus, now." It was a male's voice this time. Luke's.

"But how can that be?" Jocelyn was confused. "We would have sensed it in the house."

"I don't know." Luke's voice was stern, "But it probably isn't here anymore. My sensor is quiet."

Clary wanted to open her eyes, to ask them questions. What was going on? What was happening to her? But she was surrounded by blackness and cold, her head and arm throbbing madly.

She felt strong arms lift her from the ground, and soon, the cool night air brushed against her face. Where were they taking her?

* * *

Isabelle's heart pounded nervously in her chest. She and Jace made their way down the halls of the Haywood Art Academy. When they approached the door to Spatial Transpositions, her stomach gave a nervous lurch. What was wrong with her? That red-head was a just a mundane. Granted, she was a beautiful mundane. Very beautiful. But Isabelle wasn't usually flustered by pretty women. She also had those unwavering green eyes that made her feel exposed. And despite what Jace and Alec thought, she was sure she'd seen them in the pool club house. But there was nothing to worry about, she tried to convince herself. She was just a mundane, no danger there at all. Even if she told all her friends what she _thought_ they were, nobody would believe her.

 _Focus_ , Isabelle told herself. Their mission was too locate the mortal cup, not to muse about mundanes.

"You all right there?" Jace said, his gold eyes focused on her.

That snapped Isabelle back to reality. She realized her hand was hovering around the doorknob, but not making the effort to turn it. Isabelle was not the one to hesitate. Damn. How did this girl have her so rattled?

"What if she screams and runs again?"

Jace laughed. His expression was humored and utterly untroubled. "Then they think she's a psychopath." An excited glint entered his eyes, "Or that she simply couldn't handle all of _this_ hotness," he waved his hand over his leather-clad muscles.

Isabelle rolled her eyes.

She swung the door open and walked inside, trying to appear nonchalant. Eyes widened and jaws opened at the sight of them. That was normal. Mundanes were not used to Angelic beauty.

What was not normal was the empty seat near the back of the classroom. Isabelle was both relieved and perturbed by this. She sat next to Jace, feeling anxious. At least she didn't have to sit through this lecture with those unsettling green eyes watching her.

"She's not here." She whispered into Jace's ear.

But he was busy grinning at a group of girls across the classroom. They giggled and swooned.

Isabelle smacked his arm. "Pay attention." She hissed at him.

"Right, sorry." He was not apologetic. "What was that?"

"She's not here." She repeated through her clenched jaw.

Jace chuckled under his breath, "Would _you_ come to class after seeing a demon fight for the first time?"

"I thought you don't believe she saw anything."

"I don't, but _you_ do. And you're needlessly worrying."

"But—"

"Shhh," he whispered, "the ape-man is starting." He pointed to Professor Tydin, who had begun to pace around the room, reading the lecture in a very monotone voice.

Isabelle found herself disappointed. She was a troublesome mundane, but at least she was nice to look at. And now she had to spend an hour and a half with this playboy of a partner, a droning teacher, and twenty drooling students, with no eye-candy to please her. She sighed. This was going to be a long day.


End file.
